


Dramaturgy

by localEnti



Category: Original Work
Genre: Flashbacks, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29329800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localEnti/pseuds/localEnti
Summary: Another work I wrote for the sake of venting my emotions out.Feel free to comment and critique, I don't normally write.The title is a reference to the song Dramaturgy by Eve. It has little relation to the work as a whole, but it's a song that has been stuck in my head for the past few days.
Kudos: 1





	Dramaturgy

A tickle was brought to her attention, located around her shoulders. She opened her eyelids to a sharp stab of bright white lights, quickly shutting them again. She was frightened at first, not knowing where she was. That’s when she remembered, and utterly broke. The want of crying remained, but nothing could come out. She closed her eyes and took another breath.

She couldn’t move, she realized. A thought ran through her head, furthering her grief, “Am I really that broken?” The weighted sheets that lay across her top felt uncomfortable, yet she didn’t even have the ability to move them.

Sitting up brought a round of pain throughout her entire body, pushing her back down. She closed her eyes once again until the sound of a door opening made its way to her ears. There stood a man with a clean-shaven chin and handsome face. Brown hair reaching his ears, he gave her a wide smile, pushing his glasses up at the same time. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him over the pounding in her ears.

“Who was this man? Where was she? Why did he seem so happy to see her?” The questions ran through her head one after another, yet a small voice spoke each answer very clearly. She hated it. Tears burst from her eyes, and she started sobbing. 

The man rushed to her side, speaking words that fell on ears that weren’t listening. He was concerned, quickly running out of the room, the door closing behind him.

She knew exactly what had happened, where she was, and why she couldn’t move. Her last memory was imprinted into her.

Wind rushing through her short, dark hair. Car horns echoing throughout the city, the lights mesmerizing her. Leaning back and forth on the soles of her feet, she took in everything around her. A loud slamming behind her, the crunching of gravel rapidly approaching. Turning around, she saw the last thing she wanted, her best friend.

She remembered the pain spreading across their face, her fright at being discovered. She regretted texting them, it was the worst thing she could have done. Their arms opened in an embrace, as they yelled out her name. She jumped into them, crying. She let it all out, the tears staining their shirt. 

She didn’t like her life, truthfully. She had no reason to dislike it, but she constantly found herself picking different things out. She had known she was unhealthy, she’s had these thoughts and feelings for years on end. She knew she had no reason, she had so many friends. She had people there for her, she was pretty, she had good grades. Her parents loved her, and her life was good. 

But her friends weren’t real. They didn’t care. They never did, they’d stab her back for their convenience. She wore masks, anyways. Nobody truly knew her, and she would insist on it. Her prettiness was only an illusion to those around her, and her good grades were because she never put effort into school. Her parents loved the person she pretended to be. 

A hand ran through her hair, and she cried into her confidant. They were the one person who could ever stop her. They sat there for over an hour, just embracing. She was calm. He whispered in her ear, and she stood up. He walked to the stairwell and she followed. As he passed through the doorframe, every feeling flooded through her at once. She was so angry, so sad, and so tired. She slammed the door shut, making a sprint to the edge. 

She was incredibly tired of it all. She was so angry, so frustrated with life. She wanted it to end, and nothing would be stopping her again.

The door banged open, but by that point, it was too late. Her foot was on the edge, and she pushed off. Time seemed to slow as she flew through the air, the weight of her actions sinking into her. Simultaneously, regret and relief flooded her system. If she were asked at that moment if she would take it back, she couldn’t give a proper answer.

The Earth rushed up, and she closed her eyes for one final time.

She was being shaken, where was she again? She looked around, seeing a group of people. To her left, there was the man who entered previously, another one in a loose, white lab coat. A glance to the right revealed her parents and her sibling. Where was her friend, why weren’t they here?

“They didn’t make it.” The voice was the only one that cut through, disturbing her very core. Didn’t make it? What did they mean? Could they- Realization struck her. She wasn’t the only one that jumped.

Months passed. She had been discharged from the hospital, given medication. She was safe from herself. That’s what everyone said, at least. She stopped taking her meds, in reality. Things without her closest friend were so difficult. A glance at the corner of her laptop revealed the date.

It had been a year since t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶t̶h̶ her attempt. Feelings overcame her again. She took a glance out her bedroom window. She knew what she had to do.

Wind rushing through her long, dark hair. It whipped at her face before being neatly tucked behind her ear. Car horns piercing her ears, the city’s lights no longer holding the same meaning they did before. She stood firmly in place, looking below her. One year ago, she had jumped. One year ago, her friend died in the exact same spot, having followed her down. It was her fault. She was responsible for their death, she was a murderer. This was just her paying for her sin. Leaning forward, she closed her eyes.

Screams echoed as a body crunched on the asphalt. People were left speechless as a once stunning woman’s corpse had fallen onto the pavement, blood pooling from under it. Limbs bent at odd angles, blood pooling from under her, staining the sweater she was once gifted.

Sirens rang throughout the city. An ambulance screeched to a halt. She was declared to have been killed on impact.

A week later, the funeral was held. A closed-casket burial. Not many showed up, only family members in the area. In the end, she was right. Not many friends did actually care about her. She was mourned throughout the school, a small tribute shrine being put up in the foyer. 

A beautiful future, ruined. If she had continued living, she would have had a wonderful life. A steady, high paying job, in a field she managed to revolutionize. She would have had a wonderful family, her best friend would have lived a long life beside her happily, and she would have helped out thousands upon thousands of struggling people with her charity work.

Yet she had made the wrong choice in a moment of anger and sadness. Her actions led to her being nearly crippled, and her friend’s death. Her actions led to an unhappy life, one which she decided she didn’t want to live anymore. Her choice led to a year of loneliness and hate when she could have had a lifetime of love.

In the end, she was mourned. Her parents and sibling had cried. Her school had quickly left her memory behind, as they typically do, and she became part of a statistic, her beautiful personality being left in the dust.

Two years later, the last set of flowers were planted on her grave. The thought of what could have been remained in her parent’s heads until their deaths years later. Those who remembered her would always say she was such a wonderful woman. They would all reflect and say that nobody deserved such a fate at the age of 17.

**Author's Note:**

> Love y'all. Thanks for reading.


End file.
